Humans of Gensokyo
by Mimic Teruyo
Summary: Two meetings and a parting.
1. Human Meets Youkai

The sky was red.

I struggled ineffectively against the cluster of spider lilies that clung to my leg. The air around me was cloying and toxic, and it weighed me down; I had twisted my ankle when I fell — how could I have fallen, and from where? I had been walking down the street like any other day, not a care in the world — and it held me back as well as any manacle could.

I drew a deep breath, and the pressure got worse.

Had it not been for the dull, heavy pain in my chest, I would have thought I was dreaming. An endless marsh full of spider lilies? Flowering cherry trees with purple blossoms? A skyline that looked like it had been dyed with blood? If I wasn't asleep, I was hallucinating. Funny, that.

Since I had little strength to do anything else, I decided to enjoy my delirium. At once, life became easy; my mind was wrapped in a soft, warm cloud. If only I could get my feet out of cold water and lie down somewhere, then I would be perfectly comfortable.

"Thanks for the meal."

Japanese, my brain told me at length. Japanese, and so very out of place on this red-tinted field. Or perhaps not. I had never been to Japan. Maybe it looked like this, and all photographs and documentaries were a lie.

An apparition approached, a dab of blue against the red and purple of its background. I got the impression of a well-toned woman, with dyed hair the exact same shade as the spider lilies all around us. I thought I saw a pair of fuzzy, animal-like ears on the top of her head, and rubbed my eyes to dispel this hallucination.

"Hello," my voice was slurred and my elementary Japanese awkward and rusty from disuse, but I did my best to smile sweetly to make up for both.

The apparition smiled too. It was a vaguely leery grin that back at home would've made me leave and seek safety in company. As it was, it was kind of funny. The ears were still there, and as I looked more closely, I saw they matched the pair of fluffy tails peeking from behind the apparition's back.

The apparition spoke again, but aside from the word for "to be" and the fact it was a question, it went in through one ear and out the other.

I shrugged, the light-headedness making me giddy. She looked so puzzled I began to laugh, and couldn't stop even when the apparition said something else I couldn't understand.

A hand wrapped around my wrist, and my laughter came to an end like it had hit a wall. The touch was gentle, but something about the way those sinewy fingers gripped me, and the way the long fingernails at the end of the brushed against my skin, made me sense a force capable of crushing my bones to powder. It dawned on me that a hallucination probably wouldn't feel quite that real. Then again, I knew nothing of delirium. Perhaps this was exactly how it was meant to be.

"Come," the apparition said, in a soothing, matter-of-fact tone.

What choice did I have? I stumbled after the apparition, wading through more and more plants to seemingly no end, the spider lilies in my vision turning into blotches of blood red, then nothing but haze, until blackness claimed it all.

* * *

The weird youkai was back.

I ignored it to the best of my ability, turning to push another barrel to its side so I could roll it to the back door of the bar I lived and worked at. I told myself the youkai wouldn't — or at least shouldn't — eat me while I was in the village. That didn't mean I liked the way it was burning holes in the back of my neck with its eyes.

It had been a month since I had woken up on a bamboo mattress, surrounded by people I didn't know speaking a language I barely understood, with only a dim recollection of what had happened before. I had gotten past the initial shock of finding myself in Gensokyo, which was what the locals called the place, but I was yet to get used to the idea of youkai.

I sneaked a peek at the youkai from the corner of my eye. It (well, she, really) didn't look that different from a human: her dress was more elaborate and Western-styled, and her hair a brighter red, but for the most part she was the same as the villagers. For the most part. There was no explaining the second pair of ears, nor the two bushy tails bursting forth from her lower back, with two neat holes cut in her skirt for them to pass through.

I turned my head and rolled the barrel over to the others already waiting for one of my stronger co-workers to haul inside.

The youkai was still following me.

Here's the thing: though I was beginning to understand it, I only barely spoke Japanese. I knew some basic phrases and a few things about the grammar, but as far as real communication went, I was lost at sea.

"Help?" I finally said, hoping it would get my point across. The couple running the bar had made it clear youkai were potential customers, and while I should be wary of them if they made an attempt to lure me out of the village or into secluded nooks, as long as they acted politely I was to do likewise. While the clientele of the bar was mostly humans, and more specifically older men, every once in a while when taking drinks to tables, I'd hand them over to taloned fingers and owners of vivid red eyes.

The youkai barked with laughter. "No thanks."

My cheeks reddened. I had probably conjugated the verb all wrong.

"I work," I tried, pointing at the barrels.

"Yes." The funny smile on the youkai's face widened. "I know."

"Suzu!"

I turned my head. It was the proprietress of the bar calling for me.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, bowing at the youkai.

To my surprise, she bowed back. "Bye, Suzu."

A temporary madness seized me. I was already used to being called Suzu, but it sounded wrong, coming from the youkai. "My name's Susan. Susan Christopher."

The youkai blinked. Her eyes widened, giving me a good glimpse at her bright red irises, the same colour as her hair.

Slowly, her smile returned. "Susan Christopher." She pronounced the name at length, rolling the unfamiliar syllables.

I nodded and left.

When I returned, the youkai was gone. Where she had stood was a parcel with a large green leaf for a wrapping, tied in place with long blades of grass.

I crouched down next to the parcel, suspecting treachery. I poked at it, then looked around. My gut instinct told me the parcel was for me, from the strange youkai. But that wasn't a thing youkai did, was it, leaving gifts for humans? With a sinking feeling, I realised I didn't have good enough a command of the language to even ask anyone about it.

Hesitantly, I pulled at the ribbon on top of the parcel. The leaf shook open, revealing a cube of pink mochi, with cherry blossom petals stuck to it.

* * *

Over the course of summer and autumn, when no-one else was around, I would sometimes find similar presents waiting for me behind the bar. There was no clear-cut schedule, but they appeared roughly twice a month, either at closing time or as the first thing in the morning. They usually contained flower mochi, the colour of the petals changing as months passed, but twice I instead got a taiyaki stuffed full of red bean paste, and once, as the first frost of winter covered the land, a bundle of small, red-cheeked apples.

I had initially hidden the gifts under my spare clothes, with no intention of touching them. Once my sweet tooth got the better of me, I discovered the flower mochi didn't transform me into a flower in turn, and I ate the rest with relish. No doubt the youkai was trying to earn my trust to lure me out to eat me, but as long as I wasn't fooled, things were fine.

On the last day of autumn, two days after the Hakurei shrine maiden's marriage, I was sorting things out at closing time when the proprietess called for me.

"Suzu! Yusuke sneaked out early, and he forgot to bring in the new casks. That boy, I swear..."

"I'll take care of it," I replied. I nabbed the spare chanchanko hanging by the back door and pulled it tightly around my body before stepping outside. I closed the door behind me, and briefly marvelled at the way my breath turned into mist in the chilly air. Then, I turned to see where the casks were.

A man I had never seen before stood two feet away from me.

"Can I help you?" I asked, squinting in the dim light of the sole lantern hanging by the back door. The man had average features and a kindly smile. Nothing about his appearance stood out...but despite what felt like sub-zero temperatures, he was in summer clothes.

I squinted further. A leaf was stuck to his hair. Just a normal, green leaf. Only, all leaves had already turned brown.

"...You wouldn't happen to be a youkai, would you?"

The man's smile melted away, only to be replaced by a grin. He raised his hand to the leaf on his head and pulled it off.

I blinked. Where the man had stood was the fox youkai I had met in the spring, beaming at me.

"Well done." She winked. "You speak Japanese much better than before."

"Of course I do." It had been sink or swim, living among people who spoke nothing else. I still couldn't read anything but the most simple things, but just being able to open my mouth and be understood, and being able to understand the response in turn was a blessing I hadn't known to appreciate before Gensokyo. "Your disguise wasn't very good."

"I could fool my own mother if necessary. Today, I just wanted to see if you could spot me, so I made things a bit easier." She leaned in closer. "So, Susan Christopher..." She pronounced my name much more smoothly than the first time, almost like she'd been practising it. "How did you like my gifts?"

Their origin hadn't really needed confirming, but there it was anyway. I suddenly became very aware I was alone with a youkai in the dark. "They really were gifts, right? No strings attached?"

"No more than usually with gifts." The youkai tilted her head. She seemed to be genuinely considering something, but you never knew.

In the interim, I had learned a lot about youkai. How they ate people — though no-one could name an instance in recent years where someone from the village had actually been killed. How Outsiders — that stood for people like me who had been born outside Gensokyo — were free for all if they didn't make it to the village, and how even now I couldn't be sure I counted as a resident and thus under the shrine maiden's protection. How it was all right for youkai to come to the village if they were there on business, but befriending them was out of the question.

I had also learned there was no harm in being polite, so I bowed. "Thank you very much, Miss..." I frowned, my head still low, as I realised I didn't know her name.

"Akane. Just Akane."

"Akane. Thank you."

Akane smiled widely. The light of the lantern caught her fangs. "So, which one was your favourite?"

"Oh. Um." I gave it some thought. "The cherry blossom mochi, I think." It had been soft and sweet, with a floral scent that had reminded me of something long forgotten.

"I see." Akane chuckled. "Too bad I can't give you suzuran mochi."

I furrowed my brow at the unfamiliar word. "Suzuran?"

Akane crouched down and doodled a flower into the dust with her fingertip.

I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes for a better look at the small bell-shaped blossoms and long, rounded leaves. I couldn't be sure without colours, but even in the scant light the resemblance was uncanny. "Lily-of-the-valley? Those are toxic."

"To humans." Akane's grin faded a touch as she conceded: "And to us in large doses. Still, it's the sweetest, tastiest thing. A forbidden fruit well worth the risk." The fangs returned at full force. "You'll just have to be content with cherry blossom mochi for now."

Before I had time to comment on the "for now", she gave a quick bow, and just like that, she was gone. I stepped from under the canopy and into the open and managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of her high against the cloudy sky, flying towards the woods.

Shuddering, I stepped back and grabbed the nearest cask. As I struggled to pick it up, I tried to decide whether the shudder was due to cold, fear, or the unexpected thrill of speaking to the strange youkai.

* * *

Though I still regularly found leaf packets of mochi, I didn't see Akane at all during my first winter in Gensokyo. The endless snow and blistering cold made me homesick in a way even my first bewildering weeks hadn't. Everywhere I went, I was haunted by visions of my parents, my friends, and the world I had left behind. I learned there was no way out, only the capricious whim of the one the other villagers called "the gap youkai" in hushed tones, and so resigned myself to a pre-industrial life.

Really, my new life wasn't so bad. My bed was little more than a roll on the floor, and my food little more than rice, beans, and the occasional lake fish, but both beat a shallow grave in the strange field filled with spider lilies where I had first emerged when snatched away from my world. If it hadn't been for the dismissive comments about "Outsiders", the lack of friends to confide in, and the knowledge things wouldn't get any better on either front, I might have almost been happy.

The spring thaw uplifted my spirits: once flowers bloomed and birds joined bird youkai in their singing, Gensokyo was a joy to the senses. Even the hail of colourful bullets from the enthusiastic spring herald fairy didn't dampen my excitement.

Mornings were my favourite, so I always took the opportunity to sweep the doorway first thing after waking up, at the very crack of dawn, when the farmers left for the fields and I was the only person awake in the village. Akane hadn't left me gifts since the snow melted, so I assumed that was the end of it. She had been persistent to keep at it for almost a year. In fact, it was almost the anniversary of my arrival...

As I realised it wasn't just close to the anniversary, but _the_ anniversary, the exact date I had found myself dazed in a field of spider lilies, I spotted another leaf parcel in the corner of my eye. After sweeping the last of the debris aside I approached it gingerly, and when I was sure no-one was watching, I unwrapped it. To my delight, It was cherry blossom mochi.

"You remembered," I mumbled to myself. Then, I spotted another packet, this one in the middle the road.

The second gift led to a third, and that to a fourth. Soon my arms were full of cubes of mochi as I kept walking down the street and gathering more and more parcels.

As I crouched down for yet another gift, I saw where the next one was. It was just beyond the gate of the village. Without even noticing, I had come to the border of the safe zone.

I froze where I stood. A packet fell from my arms, but I didn't bother to pick it up.

Finally, as the initial shock passed, I found myself back in control of my mouth. "I know what you're doing."

"Do you?" Akane's voice came from above. I looked up to see her cheekily balancing on the wooden poles that marked the barrier between human territory and hers.

I located an upright barrel by the tea shop next door and dumped the parcels on it. "Do you think I'm stupid just because I'm an Outsider? I'm not going to fall for such an obvious trick."

Akane's smile lost several teeth. "It's not a trick." She jumped to the other side of the wall and soon emerged in the mouth of the gate, looking at me just behind the last parcel. "Well, not the kind of trick you think it is."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're not trying to lure me out of the village so I'm up for grabs and you can eat me? Give me a break."

Akane folded her arms. "If I was going to eat you, I would've done so when we first met."

"We didn't—" I began to protest, then realised what she was talking about. My memories of my arrival were hazy, almost if it had been a dream instead, but there had been a youkai there. A youkai with red hair...

I stared at Akane with fresh eyes. "You're the one who took me to safety."

Akane laughed wildly. "I thought you knew!" Then, more mildly. "Well, that explains why you were so reserved at the start."

I had thought myself prudent over anything else, but that was missing the point. More importantly: "So, why didn't you eat me back then?"

Akane hesitated, suddenly bashful. She dug her feet into the ground for a moment before meeting my gaze. "Well... a couple of reasons. You were acting so strangely I thought there was something wrong with you. I was worried I might catch something from you. And it just felt weird eating someone who didn't fear you at all."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." She looked away. "Almost."

"Almost?"

Akane gave me a serious look; something I had never seen on her face before. "Yeah." She struggled with herself for a while, leering to the sides as if to make sure no-one was around to hear. "The way you just stood there, all laughing and vulnerable... like some kind of rare lily only waiting for someone to snap you up, unable to put up a fight. And I could've taken you and been done with it, but more than that, I wanted to keep watching you, and talk to you, and protect you from anyone else who might want to pick you up."

"What do you mean?"

Akane grinned. "For someone so quick to learn the language, you sure can be dim."

My cheeks burned. "Excuse me?"

Akane took a step closer; by now, she was teetering at the edge to the village. She met my eyes once more. Red though her eyes were, they shone with human emotion. "I like you."

I stared, finally understanding what it all meant.

Really, the biggest surprise was how unsurprising it felt.

"I know it's weird," Akane continued when I said nothing, " but it wouldn't be the first time a human and a youkai have come together. It happens more often than people like to admit."

I nodded slowly. She wasn't lying: the owner of Kourindou was by all accounts a half-youkai.

"That's why I want you to come out of the village. There are all kinds of cool things out here I want to show you. You'll love it."

I took a deep breath. Akane kept eyeing me guilelessly — but knowing what I knew about fox youkai, that didn't mean much. And yet...

"You won't let your friends hurt me."

Akane's face brightened. Her tails stood to attention. "Of course I won't."

"And if you ever so much as bite me, it's over."

"Not even a friendly nibble every once in a while?"

"Not even—" I hesitated. "Um, well, depends a little on the context."

Akane laughed. "That's my girl."

"'Yours?' I didn't say yes yet, you know."

"Aren't you gonna?"

"Hmm." I grinned. "Who knows?"

Akane grinned back, and extended her hand. When I reached for it, she curled her claws around my hand, but so gently I felt no pain. And like that, hand in hand, the same way I had taken my first steps in Gensokyo, I took my first step back into the wilderness.

* * *

 _With special thanks to Gravity Saix._


	2. Human Meets Human

Yusuke looked up, one hand on the brim of his conical hat. He squinted. "Gonna be a light drizzle in two hours, and full-blown rain before sunset."

I nodded and returned to tending to the crops. Yusuke had been born with the ability to predict the weather for half a day ahead. It wasn't an enviable gift, not when youkai and even some humans boasted powers so far beyond our reach, but it was useful. Knowing Yusuke, he would rather have taken something to help him talk to women, but at least every time he was reduced to prattling on about the weather, he could do so accurately.

I clasped my hand firmly on the nearest weed, then pulled it up, roots and all. I lay it carefully on top of the other plants I had unearthed, giving myself a brief moment to contemplate the warm shade of green the rive had taken, then returned to work.

"Did you see Maiko today?" Yusuke asked, with a hint of slyness. He liked to talk during work.

I shrugged, tugging at one weed. My back was starting to ache: we had been toiling since morning, and it was already well into the afternoon. "I didn't pass by the flower shop today."

"Seriously, man. You can't tell me you don't like her. What's not to like?"

Yusuke did have a point. Maiko from the flower shop was a beautiful girl, and almost equally gracious and helpful. I liked her just fine. Just not in the way she probably hoped I did.

"It's not like that." I shook my head as I smoothed down the disturbed mud. "She'd be disappointed if I took things further, and then her dad would kick my ass. You know how it goes."

"I thought you just bored them to death before anything happened," Yusuke huffed. "Whatever it is that gets those girls into you in the first place is wasted on you. You bastard." He spoke with a smile, but from the metal in his eyes, I knew he didn't mean his words entirely in jest.

Yusuke and I never saw eye to eye. We had grown up as neighbours, and years after we had ceased to have anything in common, we were still stuck together. All the same, he was my best friend.

Yusuke was evidently thinking the same thing, as he went on grousing, or perhaps trying to give me advice. "You need to pay more attention, man. It's a pain in the ass trying to talk to someone who lives in their head."

I shrugged apologetically and got back to work. Appearances were deceiving. I was rarely actually lost in thought. Rather, I attempted to focus fully at the task at hand, hoping to drown all my attention in it so I would forget to think altogether. Daydreaming inevitably drifted to the same topic time and time again; a vision of my future life.

Unlike Yusuke, I had no special ability, but I didn't need one to see the future that lay ahead of me, clear as crystal.

I'd continue work on the fields, year after year after year, until my back broke and my knees gave in. Eventually I'd marry some girl to make my mother happy; I couldn't picture her face, but it made little difference. I'd have children, raise them into adulthood, grow old. Have a tidy little funeral and be swiftly forgotten. A quiet life with no surprises, perfectly respectable and wholly average.

It was...fine, really. I had accepted my life for what it was soon after leaving school. I still preferred not to think about it, however.

I shrugged again, then rubbed my aching back. "About time for a break."

"Yeah." Yusuke stood up and stretched himself, groaning. "This crap's killing me. Can't wait till after harvest time so I can get back to working at the bar."

He looked up. "Heh, speaking of both girls and bastards..." He spat on the ground. "It's the Hakurei girl."

I followed his gaze. It was the Hakurei shrine maiden, alright. Clad in heavyset robes, her red hair tied back so tightly it looked painful, with an expression that would have confounded a satori. There was only one human in Gensokyo who looked like that, if she was a human at all.

She descended down the hillside by foot, gait light but ever so slightly awkward. She reminded me of a young fawn who had just learned to walk, only this fawn hid her inexperience under grace and poise.

"What's she walking for?" Yusuke raised the brim of his hat for a better look, with a sneer on his face. "Usually she's too good to walk and flies high and mighty above the rest. What's different today?"

I shrugged and returned to work. "She has her reasons."

"There you go again. Invent all the excuses you like for her. At the end of the day she's still a haughty bitch and you know it."

"I wouldn't go that far. She has a heavy burden on her shoulders."

"So they claim." Yusuke's brow furrowed. "I get that you fancy her, but that doesn't change what she is. For all we know it's actually tentacles under those robes. Human my hairy ass."

"I don't fancy her. I don't even know her."

"Nobody does."

Yusuke fell silent; the Hakurei shrine maiden was at hearing range. We bowed curtly as she passed.

If the maiden acknowledged us with a nod in turn, I missed it. She glided past with her head held high, briefly scanning us with a blank expression.

For a mere second, her cool gaze met mine. The back of my neck tingled.

Yusuke sighed as soon as she had passed. "Bitch." He crouched down. "She's not even that good-looking. Uneven features. Probably flat as a board."

I made a non-committal noise. It was true the shrine maiden wasn't a beauty; charming, certainly, but charming in a way a glacier is charming; attractive from a distance, but cold to touch.

And yet, the way the shrine maiden had looked at me hadn't been impervious or arrogant. It was cool and calculated, but very alert, even concerned. It was the shrine maiden's duty to protect the Human Village from youkai, a monumental task to saddle on anyone, yet alone a young girl and she carried the weight with determination, her back straight, never showing pain or hesitation to anyone.

I opened my mouth to bring this up, but changed my mind. Yusuke would scoff and protest the Hakurei shrine maiden had no emotions with which to feel pain or hesitation. He may well have been right, too.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder. If she was human, she must've been very lonely.

I shook my head and returned to work. Not that there'd be any consequences for thinking such thoughts of the shrine maiden. I could fantasise about her bathing in a sea of bubbles without a stitch of clothes on for all anyone cared, but somehow, it felt disrespectful. For all I knew, she had saved my life a dozen times over.

I nodded along as Yusuke kept talking about something of no consequence, my mind eventually drifting off.

But instead of picturing my future, I kept seeing the Hakurei shrine maiden and the lingering look she had given me.

* * *

The following week, Yusuke was asked to help shuffle some inventory at the bar, and so I headed to the fields by myself. The rice stalks were growing well, and I set to work with fresh determination.

Hours passed quickly as I distracted myself from thinking, and after what felt like only a few moments, but from the rumbling of my stomach must have been much longer, I decided on a lunch break.

I turned in place and I was greeted by a pair of sandalled feet beneath the hem of a red hakama, floating just above the field to avoid getting wet. I looked up to the dark brown eyes of the Hakurei shrine maiden. Her expression was inscrutable.

I got up and bowed. Even when I stood up straight, the shrine maiden was only a few inches shorter than me. "Miss Hakurei."

The shrine maiden gazed at me quietly. "Is you name Masaki?"

"That's right."

The shrine maiden nodded towards the beaten path. "I must speak with you."

"Of course." Frowning, I followed her. What could she possibly want with me? Had I unwittingly witnessed something related to an incident?

After both of our feet were firmly on the dirt path, and the shrine maiden had looked around to make sure no-one else was at hearing distance, she looked me directly in the eye. "I would like you to marry me."

I stared back for a long moment, then nodded. "All right." After another pregnant pause, as the words finally sunk in, I added: "Wait, what?"

The Hakurei shrine maiden remained stone-faced. "I said I would like you to marry me."

"Yeah, I thought I heard that correctly." I realised I had began to fiddle with the hem of my jacket. I stopped.

"I don't think I can force you, so you're free to say no." Perhaps I only imagined it, but I thought for a second, she had a wan smile on her face. "Of course, I hope you'll say yes."

I thought I had gone nuts. Surely girls didn't just show up and pop the question at the drop of the hat, even the Hakurei shrine maiden? Hell, especially not the Hakurei shrine maiden.

"Uh, well..." I scratched the back of my head. "Can you tell me more about this arrangement?"

The Hakurei shrine maiden nodded. "I need an heir. A daughter, specifically. There's no rush yet, but the sooner I get started the better." She shrugged. "It doesn't actually matter who I have a child with, as long as they're a full human born in the village. Still, I have the freedom of choice as long as I don't dawdle, and I'd like you to be the father."

"You honestly can say no," she continued after my silence had stretched on for nearly a minute. "I know it's a big request."

A shadow passed behind her eyes, quickly vanishing as she blinked. Before, I would have assumed it to be anger, but in my baffled state of mind, I interpreted it as sadness.

I scrutinised her quietly, feeling strangely calm. Was it that big a request, really? When I thought about it, I had been on this trajectory all my life. I was going to marry someone eventually, and since I had no-one in particular in mind, why not her? I would have to move from the village, but other than that, how much could it possibly change my daily life?

A vision of my future flashed before my eyes. It was same as before, but in place of the anonymous girl with no face, I now saw the Hakurei shrine maiden, with the same mysterious look in her eyes as when our gazes had first met.

It was... appealing.

"I'll do it," I said.

My words were quiet and indistinct, but she caught them anyway. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, feeling more certain by the second. While the shrine maiden's expression had stayed the same, something about the way she stood had shifted. Perhaps it was merely the satisfaction of accomplishing what she had set out to do, but in that moment, it made her eyes dance.

I couldn't help but stare. Yusuke could say what he said about uneven features. In that moment, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I bowed deeply. "I would be honoured to marry you."

"That's good." She looked pensive. "You don't have stay if you don't like it. After I have an heir, I mean." There was an undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

I nodded again. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Yes." She looked around. The farmers working nearby had paused their work to stare at us. By evening, rumours would have permeated the entire village. "I'll leave you to your work. I'll return tomorrow to formalise our plans."

"See you then, Miss Hakurei."

The briefest of smiles flitted across her face, the first one I had ever caught for certain. "Miss Reiko will do."

I felt warm. "Miss Reiko."

She left at an unhurried pace, blind to all the eyes on her.

Though I had lots of work left to do, I couldn't concentrate on anything but the mental image of her ghost of a smile.

* * *

The boards of the shrine smelled like history.

I took a deep breath and tried my best not to squirm. I had never been good at sitting still in seiza.

My mother had been shocked, but understanding. My father's grave had nothing to say, but the breeze blowing over me as I prayed at it had been very sympathetic. My friends thought I was mental, and my employer at the shop had given me a dark look and told me to expect nothing when I came crawling back for work come winter. Maiko from the flower shop had disappeared to the back room, returning red-eyed but offering gracious congratulations. I felt bad for her, but really, there had never been anything but a few smiles exchanged between us. What was now between me and Reiko was an unbreakable vow.

My wife — the phrase still sounded strange in my head — my wife sat placidly by the window on the other side of the room, showing no signs of cramps or discomfort. How often had she sat around like this, all alone, waiting for when she was needed?

I cleared my throat. This wasn't any easier for Reiko than it was for me, so I ought to take the first step. "The shrine's bigger than I thought it would be."

Reiko blinked, her expression unchanging. "It is? I never thought so." She fell into thought. "Maybe it looks smaller on the outside."

"Enough room for both of us," I ventured.

"Yes, enough room for both of us."

The silence that followed could have crushed an oni. I racked my brain for new conversation topics. "Which season do you like the best?"

Reiko blinked again, more rapidly. "Oh, I don't know. This one's pretty nice." She nodded at the closed door. I could just barely make out the outline of a half-barren tree through the paper.

"Right." What else to add? "I like spring."

"I like it too." Reiko paused. "But I hate winter."

"Why? Winter's so beautiful."

"And so very cold. This is an old building. The cold gets through all the cracks and tries to suffocate me." Reiko pulled her arms closer to her body, as if to shield herself from imaginary frost.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought of that."

Reiko gave me a blank look. "That's not something you have to feel sorry about."

"You're right." Silence fell once more, and briefly, I wondered if I had made a mistake after all. What if I and Reiko never grew any closer? Would the rest of my life consist of sitting around, perhaps doing some odd jobs around the shrine, having nothing but halting, superficial conversations with my wife?

"I could see if I can do anything about the cracks," I continued. "I worked at a shop during winters, and I did some carpentry every now and then."

"That sounds nice." Her tone was emotionless, but I had learned to take her by her words.

Again, silence.

"Was..." I swallowed the question. I had meant to ask if I had been the first one she had asked to marry her, but even after a lifetime of not being chosen first for anything, I wasn't sure I could live with the answer. Instead, I asked: "Why did you choose me?"

Reiko tilted her head, her expression unchanging. "Why you?"

"That's right. Was there a reason why?" I didn't want to hear she had merely seen me first of all the young men in the village, but my curiosity, usually mere embers, had flared up due to her reticence and now burned my insides.

The shrine maiden sighed, casting her eyes downwards. When she raised her head, she had a shy and weak, but undoubtedly genuine smile on her face. "Because you seemed thoughtful."

My heart skipped a beat. It was as if a shell had been cast off. How could I have ever doubted the woman's humanity? She was a human, flesh and blood, with a heart feeling all the pain and solitude anyone in her position would feel.

"Thoughtful?" I repeated, unable to muster a proper reply.

"Yes." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Thoughtful, and kind."

I got on my feet and crossed the room. Kneeling down in front of her, I reached out and gingerly pulled her against my chest. I held her close and placed one hand on her head.

In response, I felt her slender hands on my back. She let out a soft sigh.

"It's true," she murmured against my shoulder.

I opened my eyes. "What is?"

"It's much warmer this way."

The fleeting smile she bestowed upon me then made it all worth it.

We sat there for a long time, with her breathing calmly in my arms, ignoring the raging winds and the first snow of the year outside. In the moment, nothing existed but us two and the confines of the shrine.


	3. Youkai Parts with Human

The snow under my feet should have felt cold.

It had fallen only two days earlier and was already melting, winter relenting for a brief moment before snuffing the life out of autumn. What remained was mostly mush and icy cold water that squished under my bare feet, but as I rushed down the hillside, all I felt was a slight twinge on my soles, nothing like the numbing pain I had expected.

I don't know why my mind fixated on it so much. I knew what was wrong, why the cold didn't register as pain. And I knew that if I stopped to reflect on it, the shrine maiden would catch me.

I stumbled onwards, further away from the paths used by the villagers, further into the wilderness and towards the monsters lurking there. All my life I had been taught to only meet youkai where I could see the lanterns of the village, but there I was, dashing blindly into the night where youkai would find me sooner rather than later.

An open field lay between the forest I was aiming for and the hill I couldn't return to, and I was at the very centre of it. Shrivelled plants waved aimlessly in the wind. The parts of the ground where the snow had melted were coated with what had only weeks earlier been beautiful red maple leaves, but had since been mutated by rain into an indistinct brown sludge, barely visible in the dark.

I had no time to stay and further observe my surroundings. I stumbled ahead into the field, praying to whichever god would listen to me I'd make it to the relative safety of the woods before...

My foot was caught by an errant root, and I fell face-first onto the ground. I tasted mulch, but when I opened my eyes, I saw the leaves I had fallen on were still preserved and retained their colour. In the dark they looked almost like spider lilies blossoming from the void.

A part of me didn't care to get up. Why shouldn't I just lie down on the leaves and wait for what was coming for me? What really waited for me in the woods but a half-life spent in constant fear?

Still, spurred on by my self-preservation instinct, I made an effort to push myself on my knees.

Someone landed softly behind me.

"Yoshiko Christopher."

And just like that, my chances of escaping had melted away. With curious detachment, I turned towards the reaper of a shrine maiden standing behind me.

 _How does she stay warm,_ I idly wondered as my eyes brushed over Reimu Hakurei. Despite the freezing wind — or what should have been freezing wind, anyway — the only addition she had made to her usual attire was a long, yellow scarf. It waved behind her in the wind, and she held it down with one hand to keep it away from her mouth as she spoke. Her mouth was a straight line, one that didn't seem too far removed from a smile, but her eyes... it was as if all the chill that was missing from the air had crystallised into her glare.

"It's the end of the line," she said.

Fear set in once more, constricting my breath. I found myself stumbling onto my hands and knees.

"Please, wait." I pressed my forehead against the ground. My teeth chattered now, but it had nothing to do with winter.

Reimu said nothing. She did, however, wait. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, though the rest of her remained rigid.

I swallowed. At most, I had a prayer, but you never knew... they did say that in spite of her position, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden was a friend of youkai ...

"I didn't mean it to happen. I... I only..." I grasped the words, feeling more clumsy by the second. I had never been eloquent, and now I needed a silver tongue more than ever. "I didn't think this could happen," I finished lamely.

Reimu considered me wordlessly. Then, she folded her arms. "You'd better explain."

In other words, I would live for a moment longer. "I..." I looked down. "There isn't much to explain. I was just studying magic on my own. Not because I wanted to become a youkai or anything. Just because..." My eyes were misty, and I hastily wiped them clear. This wasn't the time for tears. Looking pathetic might have granted me mercy from some other exterminator, but based on Reimu's reputation and her piercing gaze, I doubted appealing to emotion would work with her.

Reimu quirked her eyebrow. "Yes?"

I hung my head. "I wanted to learn to make really pretty danmaku, that's all. Like you and Marisa Kirisame and..." I swallowed. "Well, like the youkai. But I didn't want to become one of them! I never studied magic that much! I thought I'd be safe!"

Reimu exhaled loudly, a drown-out breath that sounded like a long sigh. She unfolded her arms.

"I was keeping an eye on you," she admitted. "People like you run a bigger risk of turning into youkai."

"What do you mean, people like—"

"People who are half youkai in the first place," she interrupted.

My blood already ran cold, but now it turned to ice.

"I'm not... I never..." I managed.

"Of course you are," said Reimu. Evidently, she considered the claim perfectly mundane. "It doesn't really show until others your age start growing old, but you definitely have youkai blood. Are you trying to tell me you didn't know?"

I stared at her, my impending doom almost forgotten. Most of my attention was claimed by the new, unpleasant sinking feeling in my stomach.

"My mother..." I mumbled. "When I asked her, my mother always swore I was fully human. She said it was just because she was from the Outside that I was different, why my eyes looked different..."

"That part was probably true." Reimu glanced at them. "They're red now, by the way."

"Of course." I was shocked to find myself responding with even a hint of sarcasm. "I mean..." I shook my head and continued on. "I thought something was wrong, but she swore by heaven and earth I was just as human as everyone else, that my father was the man who worked at the bar during wintertime... and he said so too! ...Of course I wanted to believe them! So I did believe them... that's why I thought it'd be fine..."

"I see." Reimu's grip around her gohei tightened. "Too bad faith only works the other way around."

"Wait." I held my hand up, still my knees. If I'd have to grovel to spare my life, grovel I would. "Please don't exterminate me!"

Reimu said nothing. I chose to take it as a positive sign, if only because I dreaded the alternative.

"I never hurt... I've never hurt anyone," I continued, fully aware I was babbling now. "I have never even struck anyone, and I never want to eat people, and... I don't want to be a youkai! This wasn't my idea! It was an accident, I swear! If you let me go, I'll stay away forever. Just... please..."

Reimu's gaze was like frost.

"Please..." My voice was little more than a whisper. I was going to die for sure, I saw it now, but I couldn't bring myself to accept it. I didn't feel like a youkai, any more like I had felt like a youkai that morning when I woke up.

 _But then, if you really were a half youkai_ , a treacherous voice from the back of my mind said, _why would you feel any different? Maybe you always were more youkai than human, and just didn't know it? Maybe that's why those around you avoided you. Isn't that why you wanted to learn to create beautiful danmaku? So that if others wouldn't approach you, they might at least admire you?_

I bit my lip. I forced myself to look back up, if only to silence the voice.

Reimu's eyes were no longer cold. She didn't looked pleased, not by a long stretch, but the frost had been replaced by something very similar to pity.

"Go," she said.

I blinked. "Come again?"

"You're free to go. I wasn't going to exterminate you if you hadn't transformed on purpose anyway. You're just going to live like the other half of you from now on out."

Scarcely believing what I was hearing, I stumbled onto my feet. "You're... you're really not going to kill me?"

Reimu raised her eyebrow. _What do you think?_

"T-thank you," I stuttered, still staring at her.

She shrugged. "What are you thanking me for? My job is to exterminate those youkai who cause problems. You've done nothing so far." She paused. "Just don't think this means you're off the hook for good. I'll come after you if you do anything stupid."

"R-right." Now that it seemed likely I was going to survive, I felt strangely hollow. My life in the Human Village had never been what one might call stellar — mostly it had been daily drudgery first at school and then at the bar my mother worked at, with no-one to call a friend — but now that it lay in tatters, I found myself missing it. "Do you think... I can still visit home?"

"I'd stop calling it home and fast. Don't push your luck."

"Right." I blinked rapidly as the mist made a reappearance. Perhaps the Hakurei shrine maiden wasn't the one I should be asking these questions, but there was no-one else I could turn to. "The Human Village, then." I had spoken the words before, but never before had they felt so alien on my tongue. "Would it be fine if I returned there sometimes, just for an hour or two?"

Reimu gave me a long, appraising look. I could tell the answer from the downward curve of her mouth before she spoke. "No. Not until you've gotten used to living as a youkai. You must never forget that's what you are now."

My heart sank. "How long?"

"Years, probably." She was still giving me the critical eye. "You can better judge it for yourself, but from the look on your face, you don't want to."

I quickly tried to rearrange my expression so that it wouldn't show my emotions. She was right, of course, and even if she hadn't been, I wouldn't dared to have defied her. If I really was a youkai now, it only made sense I would have to live like one, too. Even if I wasn't really sure what that meant.

Even as I understood this, my mind kept drifting back towards home, and towards one person in particular. "...I didn't get to say goodbye to my mother..."

Reimu averted her eyes. I had expected her to give me a tongue-lashing for dwelling on an issue she considered an open-and-shut case, but instead she stared into the distance without a word. She looked almost wistful.

"We don't always get to say goodbye," she said quietly.

I stared at her as a realisation dawned on me. Wasn't it true that Reimu lived at the shrine all by herself?

"Anyway..." Reimu had put her impassive expression back on. "Don't go back. You have to learn to be a full-blooded youkai. We all have our roles, and that's yours."

"Right." I looked at the forest I had meant to hide myself in. "Do I have to live outdoors?"

"You can build yourself a house if you want to. Some youkai do that."

I nodded. How exactly I was meant to build one, especially without supplies, was another thing to itself. Either way, I had time to figure it out. It wasn't like I would freeze to death from sleeping in the snow. Perhaps youkai-hood wouldn't be all bad.

"I'll do that then. Um..."

There wasn't anything else to say: my path ahead was clear enough, if wandering into the wilderness could be called such. Only, as soon as Reimu left, I would be alone with my thoughts, and would have to accept this wasn't some bizarre nightmare, that this was to be my life from now on, that everything from here on out I would have to figure out all by myself, without anyone to lean onto.

Reimu interrupted my bitter musings by crossing her arms and giving me a long look. "Look. If you get really stuck and have no idea what you're supposed to do..." She glanced upwards and gave a disgruntled sigh. "You can come to the shrine. I've been around youkai enough to know how they're supposed to act. I can give you some pointers."

My mouth fell open. "What? Really?"

"Why not?" She smiled ruefully. "After all, visiting the shrine is definitely something youkai do. Only if you can't make it on your own, mind you. I'm not running a charity establishment."

"Then why?"

"Like I said, we all have our roles. Mine's to make sure Gensokyo keeps running smoothly. Just like yours is to figure out what kind of a youkai you want to be."

I stared at her, seeing her as I had never seen her before. In my life, she had always been a distant authority figure, usually spoken of with vague distrust. For the first time, I saw someone else who was alone.

"...I'll do my best."

"Good." Reimu once again turned her eyes skywards. "It's about time I leave. Night's the youkai's time to shine."

Youkai's time. My time, now.

I turned towards the wilderness that was my new home. Fresh snow had slowly began to fall as we spoke, covering the dark leaves with a thin, white coating of icy crystals.

Yes. Now that I knew I had a safety net, the prospect of roaming Gensokyo and finding my new place in the world didn't appear nearly as daunting. Who knew? I might even find my real father.

Youkai probably weren't meant to bow at shrine maidens, but I did so anyway. "Farewell, Miss Hakurei."

Reimu gave me a startled look, then nodded with a muted smile. "Farewell, Yoshiko Christopher."

After that, there was nothing but the dissipating wind and the slow, soft snowfall.


End file.
